


Prank

by peaceloveandjocularity, stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M, mention of conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaceloveandjocularity/pseuds/peaceloveandjocularity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Charles and Maxwell reminisce about a prank they played in Korea... that may have been more serious than they let on.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	Prank

The happiest days Charles Emerson Winchester III spent after the war, were those on which his best friend joined he and his sister on the Cape. Something quite magical happened to the aristocratic surgeon in the presence of the plucky Corporal who hailed from the shores of Lake Erie; he laughed more easily and more often; he opened the drawbridge of his dignity, too, and left it down. Honoria loved to see the two interact. Charles accepted Klinger’s physicality as he had never accepted anyone else’s - they swatted at each other in fun, or worked side by side at cooking - and Charles did not (wonder of wonders) try to preserve his personal space. They also told the best stories. 

Enjoying iced tea under a silver scattering of stars, Charles reminded his friend of an escapade of which Honoria was still unaware. “Maxwell, do you remember that time we pranked the Captains?” 

MASH 4077 had borne the unofficial logo: “Best Care Anywhere,” but underneath, in invisible letters, it might as well have said, “Pranks and practical jokes: free while you wait.” Despite this and the drawn out, hot and cold running gag war they had waged on Pierce and Hunnicutt (with Margaret, Potter, and Mulcahy sometimes thrown into the mix), Klinger didn’t ask  _ which  _ prank the Major meant. 

“I’ve been part of odder couples,” his voice came back, warm in the dark, “but never a more handsome one.” 

“Ah, but there all credit goes to you, ‘darling,’ - you were ever the height of fashion, even when we were being strafed by sniper fire. No runway girl ever carried herself half so well.” 

To his surprise, Charles felt Honoria’s fingers clamp down on his wrist in that moment. Her voice remained sweet and musical, but underneath it was steel. “Ch-Charles, may I borrow you for j-just a moment? I need to s-speak to you  _ right now. _ ” 

She dragged him through the French doors to say, “Charles, I have r-read your letters; that was far m-more than a m-mere prank!” 

He frowned. “Honoria, please stop psychoanalyzing me. You know I hate psychiatrists.” 

“Brother m-mine, this is not d-dime store psychology. It’s common s-sense. Do you hon-honestly believe that I cannot s-see how very b-badly you wish him to b-belong to you and y-you to him?”

“It was a prank,” Charles mumbled, searching for escape routes, thinking about wire transfers to the Caimans. “Only a prank. Everyone laughed and had a lovely time.” 

Honoria held back what she had observed in Max when Charles had “jokingly,” casually called him “darling.” If the Corporal had had access to a pillow, she felt certain he would have buried his dark head in it and moaned. “Charles, do y-you think  _ he  _ can’t see it? You t-told me h-he hurt his ears over t-there once, but his eyes are fine!” 

Charles excelled at denial; one got good at such things, having endured electroshock therapy (in truth - he’d denied his sexuality for fear that his parents would keep Honoria from him, not because he feared the pain). “It was a prank. A lark. A joke to stave off the horrors of war and surgery.” 

“Fantastic. T-then you will have no earthly o-objections to me taking Maxwell to dinner, c-correct?” 

“You may  _ not _ .”

“I w-wasn’t asking permission, Charles. The m-man is a doll.”

“You asked if I would mind! I mind quite vehemently!”

“E-excellent. So g-glad to hear. You k-know how I love b-being right.” (It was a Winchester trait). “Now  _ do _ s-s-something about it or I will do e-everything in my power to get my h-hands around his tiny  _ waist _ . Maybe we’ll go d-dancing.”

The sound with which Charles replied was pure pain. “You cannot dance with him before I do! You’ve always played with my toys before I could.” 

“He’s o-only a toy to you?” 

“Honoria, I love you more than my own life, but I swear on my honor that if you so much as joke that I do not care for Maxwell…”

She flashed a grin that was feline, predatory. “Y-you likened him to a t-toy, Charles, not m-me. W-what game were you i-i-imagining? Monopoly?”

He certainly longed for one - exclusive control and possession of those lips… that slender waist (she was right about that)... those wrists… Charles wanted to call all if it his and then kneel before it in worshipful gratitude. 

“T-treat him r-right, Charles. He deserves it.”  _ You both do _ . “And if you do not, then I w-will have no ch-choice but to t-take him for m-myself.”

Charles actually drew out a handkerchief and dabbed at his warm cheeks, his forehead. “There will be no taking. No one is taking anything. Honoria,  _ please _ . Do not press this. It cannot be and… and you will make me cry if you continue in this vein.” 

“C-considering your s-self-imposed drought, I imagine you  _ will _ cry. He’ll p-probably think it’s s-sweet.”

“He will think  _ nothing _ because I am not going to insult him by offering him so pathetic a life as mine!”

Honoria’s eyes were pained. “I r-really t-thought you had con-conquered some of that w-while you were away. I w-will f-forgive it, right now, because you are in di-distress,”

“That  _ you  _ caused!”

“I did. B-but I won’t overlook it again. Y-you are a  _ wonderful  _ man, Charles. The s-second best I k-know, in fact.”

He was instantly alert; was Honoria playing the determined matchmaker because  _ she  _ had a new love interest? “The first is?”

“Sitting o-outside watching the s-sea.”

He almost smiled. “I find I cannot argue with your assessment.”

“It is r-right you be t-together,” she told him. “First and s-second best and all. Now g-go get him, soldier, b-before he thinks you a c-cad for letting him dangle.”

She used the term to instill bravery, but Charles balked. “I am not a soldier, I never  _ was _ a soldier, and I never want to  _ be _ a soldier. I am a doctor and that is all.”

“Also an idiot.”

_ Fine. That, too. But an idiot who remains in possession of his best friend. That must count for something.  _

“A-alright, Dr. Winchester the eminent, h-how’s  _ your _ heart doing the-these days?”

“As a thoracic surgeon I can say with complete faith that my heart is fine.”  _ It may beat, unimpeded, aching for you, Max, for another fifty years _ . 

“And emotionally?”

He dropped his gaze. “Bad.” 

“Go to b-bed and call me in the m-morning,” she said by way of a prescription. “Actually, have Max call. I want the unexpurgated, unannotated v-version.”

Charles sighed. It was a nice dream, but Max could never want him. He was far too beautiful and kind to want to chain himself to someone so broken and unlovely. “While I have little doubt that my fashionable love would tell you everything,” 

“Not  _ everything _ , Major, geez. Gimme a little credit.” 

Charles glared at his sister, realizing just what she’d done. Under the pretext of making a drink, she’d opened the serving hatch that faced onto the balcony. He whirled to face his darling Corporal, the love he must now lose. “God please smite me where I stand if you heard all of that… or even most.” 

“I did.”

Charles sighed. “And other reasons I remain a devout atheist.”

“Don’t y-you think you’re being just a b-bit dramatic, Mister It-was-just-a-prank?”

“It was! To Pierce and Hunnicutt and the camp. Just... not to me.”

He was softly echoed: “Me neither.” 

Charles walked over to him, placed his hands on his shoulders. “It seems I have, ah, missed an anniversary or two.”

“I  _ did _ send you letters for them.” He was grinning like mad. 

_ I'm already a bad partner _ “You did. They live in the drawer in my bedside table.” His eyes added:  _ I have never read them and failed to experience pure and serious lust _ . 

“You coulda written  _ back _ , Major.”

Honoria hid a smile behind painted nails; she’d always wondered if Max would call him that in bed. Given those bedroom eyes, she guessed yes. Her new question was: would rank dictate who gave the orders? 

“I was being… an idiot.” 

Honoria nodded, appreciated the gift. 

“Where was all that Harvard knowledge, Major?” He went up on his toes and stole a soft, quick kiss. 

Charles went completely soft; his eyes, Honoria would have sworn it on Bibles, were  _ dewy _ . “It, ah, it all flies out the window when it comes to you.” 

“That’s okay. If we’re going to go through life on my common sense and your good looks, we’ll probably make it.”

“I am quite sure I look like a withered flower compared to you, Max.”

Honoria gaped, forced herself not to say “Awwww.” 

“You do okay, Major.” He twined their fingers, his touch promising to prove, at the soonest opportunity, just how beautiful he found Charles, just how much of an understatement he was making. 

Seeing them together - like dancers, she thought, hearing music that played for them alone - she began to wonder something. “Maxwell, h-how old are y-you?” 

“ _ Stop _ ,” Charles told her, without moving his eyes from Max’s face.

Max didn’t turn either. “Younger than the Major,” he admitted. “But not a kid.” 

“Of c-course not,” she agreed. “You h-have to be eighteen to be d-drafted and K-Korea was three years. So… t-twenty-one?” 

“He is twenty-four,” Charles informed her, touching hair he longed to adorn with flowers. 

“You missed my birthday, too,” Maxwell teased him, breathing in the scent of him, almost glowing at the points of contact between them. 

“I regret so many things when it comes to you, beloved.” 

Seeing Max tremble, Honoria told him, “He a-actually does guilt q-quite well. It can be endearing, s-sometimes.”

“You can still write to me. I’ll read it.” 

“I'll leave it on your bedside table. In  _ our _ room.”

Honoria thought, in that moment, that it was a very good thing that Klinger was gently encircled; without Charles’ arms around him, he probably would have hit his knees (happily). “I’m living here?”

“Should you want to.” 

“You are  _ a-abysmal _ at this,” Honoria informed him. 

“I want you to stay,” Charles told Max (abysmal or not). “But I love you and do not wish to force you into an arrangement you do not desire.”

Honoria rolled her eyes.  _ He hasn’t stopped touching you, yet, stupid.  _

“I’ll stay.” 

Charles tipped his chin up, stroked his cheek. “No pranks?” 

“Only if that’s what it takes to keep you, Major.” 

End! 

  
  
  



End file.
